Retreat
by older woman
Summary: Hiko before Kenshin. Short oneshot.


A/N: Never mine; never any profit….

I actually have an entire 'back story' for Hiko rattling around in my head. You're just getting pieces. **CERTAIN PEOPLE** (you know who you are) are pushing me to write the whole story, but that's not going to happen while Ichirizuka's going. So you may keep getting these little scenes….

This is year 4 of Ansei, not quite 2 years before Kenshin appears. Hiko's age is in Japanese reckoning.

**Ronin**— a word that can have several shades; in this case it is a masterless, outlawed samurai

For those of you with inquiring minds, "I have fallen to earth" took the place of "Lo, how the mighty have fallen…" and is said "chi ni ochitana." (Thanks, Mio) More than you wanted to know? Sorry. I _did _warn you that I obsess over details.

The quote is taken from "A Romanized Japanese Reader" compiled and translated by Basil Hall Chamberlain in 1886.

I had **both** meanings of the word in mind when I titled it…

**Retreat**

By older woman

The weather was cold and clear, with that crystalline clarity that comes from a winter sun. Every leaf, every blade of grass was finely detailed. The glints off the creek nearly blinded him. Every thing looked fresh, new. Only he seemed old.

It was the first day of the new year. He was twenty-five and lord of all he surveyed: a meadow, a stream with waterfall attached, and lots of trees. And this hut. From where he sat at his makeshift writing table in the doorway, his eyes scanned the room, lingering briefly on the white cloak hanging nearby. _I have fallen to earth…_

By an odd trick of last night's wind, he had been able to hear—off and on—the tolling of the temple bells from beyond the mountain. _Driving out men's sins from the old year, so they can find some new ones._ It had kept him awake for much of the night and he had greeted the dawn in a foul mood.

He set his brush back down (he had not yet decided on an appropriate aphorism) and rose to his feet. He picked up the bucket waiting by the door and went to fetch some water. As he sloshed out to the faster current, he was glad that he'd recently taken to wearing the pants and loose shirt of a peasant. The pants were much more sensible for things like this than hakama. _One less idiotic thing to deal with._

Once he'd become ronin, he'd rapidly found out how worthless a lot of what he'd learned as the son of a Domain Elder really was. If you were going to survive, you learned quickly the value of money and how to do things for yourself. The only thing from earlier days truly useful so far had been his manners (when he cared to use them) and his charm.

And the charm had developed an edge.

He was no longer the golden, petted heir. Only a suspicious, dangerous stranger from somewhere else. He was tired of it. He was tired of fighting a losing battle.

So now he had strategically withdrawn.

Looking up at the cerulean blue, he shouted: "I'm not going to do it anymore! Do you hear me, sensei? You didn't tell me that to protect others I had to sacrifice everything **now**. You didn't tell me that even if I saved them physically, they could still die inside!"

That was what hurt, what angered him. He couldn't save them from their poverty, from their hunger. Or their ignorance. And even when he cut down those who were evil, he knew that as soon as he left (and he would have to leave: he was ronin), others would rise up to create chaos and fear again. That was what had aged him.

_Such drama! There's no one to see you; the effect is lost. ---The really sad, humorous thing about it is that I still believe in it. **Will** still fight. Still try to pass on Hiten Mitsurugi Ryū. _

He carried the water back into the house. Drying his legs and feet, he sat back down at his desk. He knew what he would write on this scroll:

"Virtue is not always rewarded, and vice is not always punished…The world is just like a night lit by a dim moon in spring." He did not add the last line:

"Nevertheless, the good and wise man should pass through it, looking on it as being a highway at noontide."

_If I ever find a pupil, I will warn him._


End file.
